


Homeward

by Tofu_is_amazing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Purgatory, Schmoop, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:31:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tofu_is_amazing/pseuds/Tofu_is_amazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He still sees it in Dean's eyes some times, like his brother forgot he's supposed to be mad and looks at Sam with that fond look on his face. He cracks a stupid joke, calls Sam "Sammy", and those little attentions never fail to squeeze Sam's heart. He wants to be Dean's little brother again, he doesn't care he's almost thirty, he wants his big brother back, he wants back everything he lost that past year when Dean was in Purgatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homeward

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt: DON’T JUDGE ME ON MY PROMPT but if you could manage something about Sam’s jealousy towards Benny (& Castiel) and self-loathing and low self-esteem in S8 and how he and Benny met in a bad situation of him bleeding and the blood loss is mass and Benny’s been on edge and so hungry that he just snap but Dean goes NOPE NOT MY BROTHER and hack Benny’s head off and FOLLOWED BY Sam’s even more guilty about Dean having to kill his friend because of him BASICALLY I WANT COMFORT AND SCHOOMP AND FIX-IT FICS FOR SEASON 8 I DON’T KNOW IF YOU WRITE SEX SCENES I DON’T CARE WHO TOPS BUT I’M IN A HUGE NEED FOR BOTTOM!SAM FOR S8

Sam should be relieved. He wants to be. When they killed Dick Roman and when Dean disappeared, along with Cas, Kevin, Crowley, and pretty much everyone else, Sam thought it was over. He didn't know if Dean was dead, and it was somehow worse than seeing his brother's corpse on the ground, broken and bloody. Not knowing was worse. So he fled. He left everything behind, just trying to put as much distance as possible between him and what just happened. He just lost everybody he ever cared about. He lost his mom, his dad, his “adoptive father", an embarrassingly high amount of friends, and now his brother. Sending the leviathans back to Purgatory was supposed to bring some kind of closure, to give him and Dean some time to rest, to heal all the wounds they carry around.

But he was alone. After everything that had happened those last ten years, after all the sacrifices, all the pain, he ended up, alone. That's when he hit the dog. Amelia was nice. She was broken, just like him. She didn't ask. She didn't push. They understood each other, and even though they both knew their relationship was bound to fail, they needed it nonetheless. Amelia was there when no one else was, she gave him comfort, she gave him a reason to get up in the morning, she gave him as much as he gave her. Of course she didn't have broad shoulders, freckles and muscled thighs. She wasn't Dean. But she was there, and that simple fact made her better than anybody else.

It took a year for Dean to come back, and there wasn't a single day during that year when Sam didn't think about his brother, trying to understand what had happened, where he was, and mostly, if somehow this wasn't his fault. He couldn't help it. The guilt was there, all the time, something he couldn't quite explain, something unreasonable, but there wasn't anyone to tell him he was wrong. Nobody. He knows that Dean would want him to be happy, to have the life he wanted to have since he was a teenager. He knows he shouldn't feel guilty to spend his evenings watching tv instead of looking for his brother.

It gets worse when Dean comes back. It's joy, pure joy, for some time, and even though Dean is pissed, Sam doesn't care because Dean is here and he'll take a pissed Dean over no Dean at all any day. But guilt grows stronger every time Dean mentions Kevin, every time he takes those phone calls that he doesn't want to talk about. It's new. They're not supposed to have secrets for each other, not like that. They don't have parts of their lives they hide from the other. And Sam is jealous, of whoever it is Dean is talking to over the phone. It's unfair, he knows it, he's got absolutely no right to feel like this, he can't get pissed at Dean because he's the one who fled. He's the one who dropped everything and let his brother down. He's the one who quit. So he should feel relieved, but he's not. Because Dean is back but it's not like before. They haven't touched each other yet. It's been more than a year and Sam would take the first step if he wasn't sure that Dean would clock him one right away. He feels so bad he doesn't know where to begin to make amend.

The thing about feeling bad, is that it can always get worse. There is no bottom. You can't say "this situation can't get worse", because it's not true. It can always get crappier, there's always something waiting to break your heart a little more. The first time they meet, Sam tries to chop Benny's head off. He feels the cold palm in his, understands that he's shaking the dead hand of a dead guy, and he sees the vampire. He doesn't need to see the fangs, he knows they're here, hidden behind closed lips shaped into a smile that actually seems genuine. _Liar_ , thinks Sam. But Dean shakes his head when he sees Sam's hand closing around his machete, and Sam doesn't understand why the vampire's not dead already. And then, then it comes. "This is Benny." Just three words, but an acknowledgment so strong that it feels like a punch in the gut. It means, this is someone, not something. This is a person, like you, like me, this isn't a monster. And you don't kill him. It means this is my friend. It means this is the guy who was here when you weren't. And Sam wants to be angry, he really wants to, but all he can think about is how much he failed Dean. Because that's the only reason Dean could possibly trust a vampire. It hurts so much Sam can't even cry. It's beyond tears, it's a silent agony, it's his heart being torn to shreds in front of his eyes. It's beyond everything.

So he stops trying. He hunts with Dean, and thinks. He thinks about everything, understands things he didn't understand when they happened. He understands what Dean felt when he chose to trust Ruby over him. It hurts like daggers in his heart. And yes, it still can get worse. Castiel comes back. Sam doesn't know which version it is now, the angel, God, crazy-Cas, or a new one, but it doesn't change anything. The trench coat is ruined, there's stubble on Cas's cheeks, dirt on his face, and he looks like he could use a month of sleep. He isn't supposed to look like he needs rest. That's another blow, and Sam feels like the universe is showing him what happens when he turns his back, when he stops caring about the persons he loves. It's awful and Sam doesn't talk about it. He watches, watches the way Dean and Cas look at each other, like they're sharing something they can't explain with words. They seem connected in a way that makes Sam's jealous. Whatever it is, whatever Dean and Cas, and fucking Benny shared in Purgatory, it linked the three of them, and left Sam out of the equation.

He still sees it in Dean's eyes some times, like his brother forgot he's supposed to be mad and looks at Sam with that fond look on his face. He cracks a stupid joke, calls Sam "Sammy", and those little attentions never fail to squeeze Sam's heart. He wants to be Dean's little brother again, he doesn't care he's almost thirty, he wants his big brother back, he wants back everything he lost that past year. _It's your own damn fault if things are so screwed up._ He can't keep the little voice in his head from repeating this over and over again. It kills him, to feel his relationship with Dean slipping through his fingers, seeing him choosing other people over him, and it kills him to know that he brought it all on myself. Days pass and they're all the same. Sam watches his brother from afar, watches him deal with his Purgatory PTSD and every time he goes to sleep at night, he feels a little more worthless.

~

It's when he feels the fangs in his throat that he realizes that they didn't kill all of the vampires. For some reason, Benny joined them on this one and Sam didn't say anything because he doesn't feel like he even has the right to say anything. He's too tired and at least, Dean talks when Benny's here. And while Sam hates the vampire, hates him with all his guts, he can't help but being grateful when Benny yanks the vampire away before he hacks his head off. Sam feels dizzy, and he doesn't know if he's just really fucking tired of everything or if it's the blood loss who's making his legs unstable. He falls on the ground and tries to mumble something like "thank you" to Benny, except it sounds like a gurgle and Sam doesn't try again. Benny is looking at him with his head cocked to the side, like Sam is some kind of creature he's never seen before, his eyes fixed somewhere just below Sam's face, and it takes Sam a full minute to realize that Benny has his eyes fixed on the vampire bite still bleeding on his throat. He gets tensed immediately, and would call for help if he could articulate a damn word. His legs feel too heavy, and he can't get up, can't do anything but watch Benny, who hasn't moved at all for the past five minutes.

"Benny", Sam whispers, because that's all he can do right now, "did you feed before this hunt?"

Benny doesn't answer, he probably didn't hear Sam at all, and he unconsciously licks his lower lip when he says "you're bleeding."

He starts to walk towards Sam, his eyes never leaving the wound on Sam's throat and Sam's heart beats faster, panic seizing him and leaving him unable to do anything but watch as Benny kneels beside him. "Don't", Sam whimpers when Benny grips Sam's head in his hand and lifts his chin to see the gaping wound on Sam's neck.

"You're bleeding" Benny says, again, before his fangs connect with Sam's skin. Sam can't do anything. It's not painful, he doesn't really feel anything, just warmth on his neck and Benny's hands on his head, holding him still even though he couldn't move if he wanted to. He sees black dots in front of his eyes, and looks absently at his feet, trying to move them but everything seems too far away, disconnected. He's about to close his eyes when he feels Benny's mouth leaving his throat and his hands leaving his head. He doesn't need to turn his head to understand because he hears the sunken noise and sees the vampire's head rolling on the ground in front of him, and a familiar pair of green eyes looming over him.   
  
And that's it. That's the moment when Sam breaks. Because it got worse, again, even though, just like every other time, he thought it couldn't get worse. But it did, and now Dean just killed his friend, vampire friend, to save his brother's life, again. Sam can't take it, can't take this. It's just this side of too much, just the final drop, the last twisting of the knife stuck in his heart and he breaks. He hears the sob before he realizes it's his. He feels the wetness on his cheeks before he realizes he's crying. Dean's fingers are on his neck, a ripped piece of his shirt stopping the wound on Sam's throat from bleeding, and it's when the tears reach his fingers that he finally looks at Sam and furrows his brow.

"Sam? Sam you okay man?"

His hands are on Sam's shoulders, and he assesses his brother's body, trying to find a wound he could have missed, trying to find anything that could explain the hurt look on Sam's face and the goddamn tears. But Sam just shakes his head, and his next words carry so much hurt it feels like he's dying.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry".

He repeats it over and over again, and Dean's hands never leave him. He feels drained, and he figures that now that he started, he better go with it. So he speaks, and he tells Dean everything.

"I'm sorry I didn't look for you when you were gone, I'm sorry I let you rot in there for a whole year, I'm sorry I betrayed everyone, I'm sorry I betrayed you, I'm sorry I ruined everything, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He keeps speaking, the words an endless apology, words echoing in the small room. He apologizes for everything. For Amelia, for Benny, for Cas, for the freaking dog. He says he's sorry, he keeps saying it, like if he keeps saying them, the words will mean something, will carry with them all his hurt, all his feelings. Dean hasn't been able to speak once and when Sam finally stops, he doesn't say anything, just lifts Sam from the ground and takes him back to the impala. He drives faster than he should, and Sam is silently crying in his seat. He shouldn't cry, it's not something he does, he never feels the need to unless something really, really terrible happens. He remembers crying when their dad died, when Jess died, when Dean died. Nobody's dead tonight, at least nobody Sam cared about, and he feels ashamed because he can't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks.

When they get to their motel, Dean carries Sam to their room and carefully lets him lay on the bed. Sam wants to look away, to roll on his side and face the wall, but Dean crawls on the bed next to him and holds Sam's face between his hands, forcing him to look at him in the eyes.

"Now you listen to me Sam. I'm saying this once, and once only, you hear me?"

When Dean doesn't continue, Sam imperceptibly nods, and Dean takes a deep breath before he speaks again.  
"This isn't your fault."

Sam was bracing himself for harsh words. It's not at all what he expected and somehow, it hurts more than rejection. But Dean goes on, unwilling to stop.   
"I know it's been hard between us since I came back, and I am pissed that you didn't look for me but... But I get it okay, I get why you did it, and I know it's selfish to think you should have dropped everything to find me, and I know you had a tough year too. I know we still got issues, hell, when don't we have", and his fingers just barely brush Sam's jaw , "but you're my brother Sam, okay? You're still my annoying over grown little brother, you'll always be my little brother. And none of what happened is your fault okay?"

Sam tries to shake his head, but Dean's grip is firm and Sam can't look away.

"No you listen to me, it's not your fault. I trusted Benny, but he couldn't live here anymore, he couldn't fight what he was, this isn't your fault Sam. Don't you dare believe it is."

And with that, Dean closes the small distance between them and kisses Sam. It's a slow and tentative kiss, it's been so long since the last time they were together like this that they both need to rediscover each other's bodies. Sam opens his mouth and they deepen the kiss, Dean's tongue dancing with Sam's. It's slow and unhurried, and they both need it that way. Frenzy kisses and shirts ripped open will be for another time. Right now, it's all about showing, showing how wrong Sam was, and Sam takes it. He takes everything, the gentle touch of Dean's hands stroking his sides, Dean's thigh between his legs, slowly rubbing against his cock, already half-hard in his pants. Dean slides his hands everywhere, down Sam's back, to soothe the trembling of his brother, then up his spine again to pet through Sam's hair, before he caresses Sam's cheeks again. In a smooth move, Dean rolls them both over and now he's straddling Sam, and his mouth picks up what his hands started. He kisses Sam's throat, careful to avoid the fresh wound on his neck, and playfully bites Sam's earlobe a few times. He kisses Sam's forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth, and follows an invisible path down his brother's body. His tongue follows the outline of Sam's collarbone, before he sucks one of Sam's nipple in his mouth, and Sam feels the fire starting at the pit of his stomach. His heart's pounding in his chest, and his face almost tingles with all of the blood rushing to it. It's been so long, he could come just with this, Dean's mouth on him, so careful, so loving, so much like who they really are, underneath layers and layers of hurt and pain.

Sam would like to move, would like to show Dean just how much all of this means to him, he wants to bury himself in his brother, he wants to kiss every freckle, he wants to smell Dean's cheap cologne and his sweat, he wants Dean's eyes to be almost dark with need and want. He would like to hear the broken moans when it's just the right side of painful, he wants to feels Dean's heels circling his waist while he thrusts in his brother's body, but it's not what's going to happen. Sam feels tired, on edge, like a strained wire, and he still feels dizzy. But it's okay, because if there's anything he wants more than being buried deep inside Dean's body, it's feeling his brother's inside him. So he just moans when Dean sucks both his nipples until they're hard, he just touches Dean's hair when his brother's kisses his navel. And he just closes his eyes when Dean licks the shaft of his cock before he closes his lips around him. It explodes behind his closed eyelids, and it's not because Dean is doing this like a pro (although he is), it's because he missed this so much, the intimacy, the feeling of being together, skin on skin, boundaries fading away.

He moans when he feels Dean's fingers tentative against his lips, as if he's asking for Sam's permission, and Sam doesn't wait, he opens his mouth and licks Dean's fingers, sucking them until they're dripping with saliva. When he opens his eyes, Dean is looking right at him, his green eyes fixed on his with a look of adoration on his face, like Sam is the last slice of pie in existence, and it's the most erotic thing Sam's ever seen. He spreads his legs wider when he feels Dean's hand slowly creeping between his cheeks. He rubs his slick fingers around Sam's hole, before tentatively pushing one inside. Sam can only moan loudly, and he feels the pressure of Dean's tongue against his dick, Dean's finger opening him and he needs more, anything, but more, and his "please" must express all that because Dean soon adds another finger and then a third. When he releases Sam's cock with an audible pop, Sam needs to come so bad he think his skin is going to split open any second from all the pressure boiling inside him.

The next second, they crashes their mouths together, attracted like magnets, and Sam feels the head of Dean's cock brushing against his opening. Their mouths are still locked together when Dean pushes, and Sam has to roll his head back on his shoulders to breathe. Once Dean's balls deep inside Sam, his little hiccuppy breaths and Dean's panting are the only sounds in the room.

"Move, Dean," Sam finally chokes out, and he rolls his hips. Dean groans and starts to slowly pull back before slamming back in, and he settles in a rhythm that grows more erratic with each thrusts. Sam registers only now the quiet "Sam", "Sam" that Dean keeps repeating, like it's the only word he knows and the only one he needs to know right now, like it means anything and everything, and perhaps it does. Sam's breath catch when Dean hits the right spot, and it's so good Sam feels like he's gonna lose his mind. Dean is perfect above him, hissing with pleasure and biting his already blood-heavy lip as he pounds into Sam, his thrusts going sloppy erratic, and it's that, just that, that does it for Sam. He locks his legs around Dean and pulls him closer and closer, until the sweat-slick friction of Dean’s stomach on his cock sends Sam over the edge. He comes all over his own stomach with a whine barely audible, and his orgasm seems to trigger Dean's because a few seconds later, his brother fills him up, pleasure written all over his face, before he crashes down on top of Sam.

When Sam returns to reality, he's still on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and it takes him a moment to realizes Dean is still on top of him. He tries to see his brother's face, but the angle's not right, and he figures if Dean doesn't move, he must be asleep. He tries to move a little and Dean grunts before he moves his arms to circle Sam's waist. Sam doesn't know if it's an unconscious gesture or if Dean's still awake and it's a silent way to tell Sam to stop moving. He doesn't know which option he likes better. But as he closes his eyes and feels sleep taking over, he figures he doesn't really care.


End file.
